


the waiting that happens in the space between.

by redhoods



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Episode 69, Pre-Relationship, lowkey fjord dealing with orcish instincts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21873562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: Distantly after that, he realizes that what he’s wrapped in is Caleb’s old coat, the material soft and worn in his hand. His fist is curled into it and he’s got it tucked up under his chin and his knuckles hurt when he tries to release it.In the space of a breath, panic sets in as soon as he realizes that he can’t hear any of the others and he shoves up onto his elbows, his heart slamming on the inside of his ribcage. He tries to ignore the voice that says he’d deserve it if they had left him. If he hadn’t killed Obann, if he’d been able to get Yasha out, if he hadn’t gone back in...Nott hisses at him, down by his feet, “Fuck, Fjord,” she says, sucking her thumb into her mouth and he watches her start tucking her supplies away.
Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 7
Kudos: 356





	the waiting that happens in the space between.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) this was titled 'somebody hug that warlock' in my drafts.  
> 2) clearly this is before fjord throws the falchion in the lava.  
> 3) i know the bubble is fancy and probably better temp controlled than my house but like... fuck the rules. eat a dirty sock, o'brien.
> 
> something something intimacy and care and gentleness.
> 
> it's about the tenderness. it's about the yearning. it's about the hands. etc.
> 
> title from the dislocated room by richard siken.

Something nudges him in the back.

Fjord snuffs out a quiet sound and swats at whatever it is with a hand. If he were more aware, if this were any other time, he might’ve bolted up right in preparation for whatever was happening. Falchion in his hand, ready to swing into action.

As it is though, he’s warm and comfortable and it smells like home.

No one would be stupid enough to attack them in their home, right? So he can get some more sleep and whoever it is can fuck off for a little while longer.

Whoever it is, whatever it is, nudges him again and digs in a little harder.

His next sound rumbles out a little louder and he swats out, claws actually catching at something.

There’s a yelp and he burrows back in to the warmth in smug satisfaction. He slings his arm back forward, over the source of heat at his front. The source of the smell that says safety, home, leather and smoke and parchment and the tickle of magic and a sneeze at the back of his throat.

\-----

“Did he just growl at me?” Beau asks Caduceus incredulously.

Caduceus blinks back at her, then looks at Fjord, “He’s purring, that’s nice, he feels safe.”

She opens and closes her mouth several times, then looks back to Fjord as well, “I bet he’d feel less safe if he knew what he was doing.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Caduceus replies after a minute of silence only interrupted by the quiet rumble that’s emanating from Fjord, “We’ve all been through an ordeal and I don’t think there is anything wrong with wanting to seek some comfort. We all cope differently.”

They both spare a brief glance to where Jester and Nott are both curled up.

Beau swallows, “This is Fjord we’re talking about,” she hisses quietly, “And Caleb,” she adds lower, with a hand flung in their direction.

Caduceus huffs out a quiet sound, like a chuff of amusement that has her staring at him like he’s lost his mind, “I don’t think Caleb minds so much, do you, Mr. Caleb?”

The way Beau whirls is almost comical, just barely catching herself with her staff to keep from tipping over. Her head briefly disappears outside of the bubble of the hut before she pulls herself back in with her upper lip curled in disdain. That short second had been all it had taken for her to get windswept it seems.

“This is the first he’s slept in days,” Caleb says, voice very quiet, “I have no intention of being the reason that stops.”

Beau’s shoulders sag.

“I’ll keep watch through Frumpkin, get some rest,” he adds, “Wake Nott if you think two of us should watch.”

“I think if nothing can get into the bubble, then we should all get as much rest as possible,” Caduceus says before Beau can interrupt, lifting an eyebrow when she turns in his direction, “No need to interrupt anyone else from their sleep.”

She squints at him before realization sinks in and she nods, “Yell if you need us, Caleb.”

“Ja.”

\-----

Fjord wakes to watery light filtering in through the bubble, warm and rested, wrapped up in something that smells familiar and nice. It takes a minute for him to get his eyes open, to properly start waking up, and he realizes that there is no bubble.

Distantly after that, he realizes that what he’s wrapped in is Caleb’s old coat, the material soft and worn in his hand. His fist is curled into it and he’s got it tucked up under his chin and his knuckles hurt when he tries to release it.

In the space of a breath, panic sets in as soon as he realizes that he can’t hear any of the others and he shoves up onto his elbows, his heart slamming on the inside of his ribcage. He tries to ignore the voice that says he’d deserve it if they had left him. If he hadn’t killed Oban, if he’d been able to get Yasha out, if he hadn’t gone back in...

Nott hisses at him, down by his feet, “Fuck, Fjord,” she says, sucking her thumb into her mouth and he watches her start tucking her supplies away.

“Sorry,” he breathes out quietly, pulling his knees in towards his chest.

She’d been making more bolts, tucked down by his ankles, and something about that swells in his chest, adding to the overfilled pocket that’s been forming ever since they emerged from the tunnels.

He looks away, finds Beau and Jester a few paces in one direction, shoulders pressed together where they’re sitting on a rock. It doesn’t seem like either of them is talking and he swallows thickly and flicks his gaze elsewhere. He finds Caduceus sitting on the dirt, facing towards where the sun is rising on the horizon, staff laying in front of him on the ground.

Meditating.

It’s been a loss cause for him lately, he hasn’t been able to quiet his mind.

He drops his gaze to Caleb’s coat in his lap and he rubs his thumb over the material, inhales slowly.

In that quiet instant, he knows that Caleb is behind him and to the left. He turns his chin to his left shoulder, casts his gaze wide, and wonders how he knew. Caleb is facing away from him and instead of smaller without his coat, he looks larger. 

Like he’s allowing himself to take up more space now, shoulders spread broad, feet planted.

Fjord’s jaw aches and he looks away.

Nott is staring at him, “Any nightmares?” She asks, quietly, like she’s as worried about disturbing all the others as he is.

He scrapes his claws over his jaw, rubs his knuckles over the blunt jut of one of his tusks, “None that I remember,” he answers and drops his hand when her gaze pointedly lands on it. He’d been thinking about digging at his tusk and he doesn’t know how she knows.

She hums, “Good,” and then stands and stretches, several of her joints popping, “You purr in your sleep, by the way.” The way she says it, careful, not accusatory, makes him pause where he’d been folding Caleb’s coat up, “It was... comforting,” she adds and then scurries off before his brain catches up.

He’s still staring at the space she’d been occupying when someone’s legs come into his line of sight. He follows them up to find Caleb staring down at him, quiet and still, “Here,” Fjord says, voice hoarse, handing Caleb’s coat up to him.

It’s a slow thing, the way that Caleb lets himself smile, like he’s got to remember how to do it, but he does, a little quirk of his lips, “I’m glad you rested.” He takes the coat, but doesn’t put it on, even though there’s a chill in the air. Caleb’s seemed pretty at home this far north, the further west they get, the more he loosens up.

Fjord’s not stupid though. Caleb’s resigned himself to the fact that a fight is coming for him and that the closer they get to the Empire, the faster it’s going to happen.

He just hopes Caleb hasn’t resigned himself to dying because of it.

“I don’t think I’ve slept that well in a while,” Fjord admits as he pushes himself to his feet. In his distraction, he only catches a glimpse of Caleb’s pink cheeks out of the corner of his eye, but he chalks it up to the cold once he’s up right. Absently, he notes that Caleb’s beard is almost fully grown back in and decides not to mention it.

“Gut, I think we all needed some rest,” Caleb replies as the others join them.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Beau says and slugs him on the upper arm, “We got the moorbounders, lets get moving,” she adds to the group at large and Fjord tries not to make it obvious how he rubs at the spot she’d hit.

\-----

Apparently, while he’d been asleep, the others had decided on a change of riding arrangements.

He swallows back the bitter tang at the back of his throat as he watches Beau swing onto Yarnball behind Jester and doesn’t swing back fast enough to avoid Caleb flicking the end of his nose. “I’m comin’,” he grouses and hopes that Caleb’s moorbounder isn’t going to toss him off as he climbs up.

“Everyone just needs time,” Caleb says quietly, before they start moving.

Fjord huffs a sharp breath through his teeth and doesn’t respond.

Caduceus and Nott take the lead and Fjord has to smother a grin at the picture they present, Nott’s tiny form almost engulfed by Caduceus behind her, keeping Clarabelle steady on their path. 

Caleb nudges Jannik behind them and Fjord’s thoughts scatter to the wind, because riding like this, being behind Caleb, means that he’s constantly drowning in Caleb’s scent, not to mention getting Caleb’s hair in his face, and he devotes a lot of focus into not thinking about why that settles him so much.

Hours slips by like that.

They don’t slow for anything, putting as much space between themselves and Bazzoxan as they can.

None of them are interested in lingering any longer than they need to.

At some point, his back protests the riding, the way he’s been holding himself back as he tries to readjust as best he can, rolls his shoulders back, twists a little.

“Fjord,” Caleb says, over the wind whipping by their ears. It’s strange though, like a bubble has formed around them so he can hear Caleb just fine, and it takes him longer than he cares to admit to realize that Caleb’s messaging him, “You’re not going to offend my delicate sensibilities.”

Even through the spell he sounds wry and amused.

Fjord snarls softly back at him and Caleb’s laughter carries back over the wind. 

Ducking his chin to his chest, to hide his grin from nobody, he shuffles forward carefully. Hooks his chin over Caleb’s shoulder, loops an arm around his middle, “Thanks.”

He feels Caleb’s hum more than he hears it and they fall quiet.

It’s not a thing, he tells himself, as he turns his face against Caleb’s neck, quietly breathing him in. Caleb only shifts a little, settling back more firmly into the curve of him, and Fjord can’t stop the quiet pleased sound that rumbles from his chest.

There’s no way Caleb misses it, but he graciously doesn’t comment and Fjord rocks his jaw a little, careful to keep his tusks away from the delicate skin of Caleb’s throat.

\-----

They stop when they come to the river.

Fjord feels a sickening sense of dread just looking at it, watching the water rush by. It’s clear this far north, this close to whatever body of water borders the top of Xhorhas, and he’s aware of eyes on him, the way that everyone is giving him space at the bank.

“There has to be a crossing,” Beau says suddenly, to his left and a pace or two back.

He closes his eyes, focuses on the water flowing.

“We can follow it south,” Caleb is to his right, closer than Beau, and Fjord curls his fingers, presses the points of his claws against the scar on his palm.

“What if there’s not one?” He asks quietly, to no one in particular, eyes still closed. The water keeps rushing by, “We could go miles and not find anything,” he opens his eyes, debates for a minute and turns the stubborn set of his jaw at Caleb, “I can do it.”

Beau makes a sound and Caleb waves her off.

Caleb meets his gaze, appraising him, “Are you sure?”

Fjord nods, once and short.

“Alright,” Caleb backs off, turning and going back to Jannik.

Beau doesn’t move for a long pause, “You two,” she says and he can’t parse her tone. She doesn’t sound upset though and he watches her back as she rejoins Jester, the two of them furiously talking as soon as she’s settled on the moorbounder again.

He turns back to the water, breathes out quietly, focuses on the quiet pull in his chest that tells him Caleb’s moved closer. 

Lifts his palm up from the ground and spreads his fingers wide.

The water lifts then parts, leaving a channel across the river bed wide enough for the moorbounders.

Caleb doesn’t hesitate.

Fjord doesn’t breathe, watching Caleb cross on Jannik, unable to hear anything over the rush of blood in his own ears and the surge of the water as it tries to refill the gap.

Still doesn’t when Caleb clears the other side, then Caduceus and Nott ride Clarabelle across.

“See you on the other side,” Beau calls as Jester pushes Yarnball ahead through.

His chest hurts when they’re all across and his shoulders sag as he takes his first steps through. The water holds on either side of him and he tries not to look at it as he walks across.

A breeze runs through and he gets the urge, this nudge at the back of his head, that tells him to run, so he does.

The water crashes down around him, sweeping him up.

He panics, the force keeping him under, even the magic of his armor unable to pull him to the surface for what feels like too long, until his lungs are burning and he’s inhaling too much water. His vision gets fuzzy around the edges as he tries to propel himself up.

Though he doesn’t know which way up is.

The river hadn’t seemed this deep, this forceful before.

He breaks the surface suddenly, though he’s panicking too much to keep his head above.

He knows better than this, but he can’t make his body cooperate.

There’s a loud shriek above him in the air and dread burns through him as he remembers the roc. He can’t do anything though, can barely gasp in air, when the creature sweeps in. Claws pierce his shoulders and his shout is lost in the water before he’s yanked up.

The sudden change does nothing to help.

Until he realizes he’s not being carted off, that they’re descending slowly towards the ground.

Jester is the first person he makes out, her voice carrying over the sound of wings flapping, “Fjord!” She’s calling his name over and over and over.

He loses consciousness around the point that he realizes that Caleb isn’t with the group.

\-----

Consciousness comes back to him with a gasp and coughing fit, a sudden slam that has him jerking up and nearly smacking his forehead off of Jester’s. As it is, he catches the curve of her horn and they both jerk away from each other.

“Easy,” Caduceus is on his other side and presses his hand to Fjord’s shoulder, keeping him from moving too much, “You’re okay now.”

He breathes and sags, “Thanks,” his voice is wrecked, like he’s been gargling glass.

Jester touches his leg carefully, gentle and subdued, “Thank Caleb,” she says, and then shifts, to press their arms together. He’s not sure what she’d been waiting for, but they’ve both been holding themselves so carefully around each other.

“Water,” Nott gripes, again down by his ankles and she’s twisting her water walking ring around on her finger, around and around and around.

“Water,” he agrees and then coughs up a mouthful of river water to his left, away from Jester.

Caduceus doesn’t seem to mind.

Fjord breathes quietly through his nose, focuses on that place in his chest, and knows Caleb is behind him again like this morning, but off to the right. He turns his head, careful to not knock Jester’s horn.

She leans back though and peers at his face, touches his chin gently then nods, “I did good,” she says, still so quiet. Then she punches him in the arm, “Don’t scare me like that again!” She stands up with a huff, brushing her dress down. “Caleb! He’s awake!” 

Jester stomps off and he hears footsteps take her place.

Again, Caleb’s legs come into view.

Fjord doesn’t tilt back to look at his face this time, instead waits him out.

Eventually, Caleb folds down next to him, “When did you know?” He asks, very quiet, holding himself still at Fjord’s side, like a statue.

It sinks in then, “You think I--” he stops and inhales raggedly, pushes the heels of his hands against his eyes. He’s only half aware of Caduceus moving away, of Nott’s presence slipping away. A semblance of privacy for what they’re expecting to be a difficult conversation.

“We could have found--”

“I didn’t know, Caleb!” Fjord bursts suddenly, because he’s too full up on everything, “I wouldn’t have put any of you at risk if I had thought--”

“--we’re not talking about the rest of us!” Caleb actually raises his voice, angry, and Fjord looks at him in surprise. 

Caleb’s eyes are red and so is his face. He looks angry, like Fjord’s never seen him and it takes everything not to recoil from that look, to not pull himself away. There’s no way Caleb would hurt him.

_There’s no way Caleb would hurt him._

“We are not talking about the rest of us,” Caleb adds, serious, “We are talking about you, taking risks, and putting yourself in danger.”

Fjord scrubs at his eyes, hates that he can feel the angry prick of tears there, “I’m sorry! I thought it was going to hold, it didn’t think it was going to do that, I just--”

Hands curl around his wrists, tugging his fists away from his face and Fjord clenches his jaw, looks away, over Caleb’s shoulder. “Fjord,” Caleb says, then, “Fjord,” louder, until Fjord looks at his face. He wants to look away immediately again, doesn’t want to meet Caleb’s serious expression.

“Fjord,” his voice goes soft and he pushes his fingers through Fjord’s, lacing both of their hands together, “You have nothing to prove to any of us. You are not worthless to any of us.”

“I couldn’t--”

“No,” Caleb says, gentle, “You can’t blame yourself for Yasha.”

He has to close his eyes, squeezes them shut, and tries to pretend like he’s not crying.

Caleb releases his hands and a quiet sound escapes him, but Caleb just shushes him gently, sliding arms around his shoulders and tugging him forward, until Fjord curls against him, his face against Caleb’s shoulder. “We all tried,” Caleb says, hanging on while Fjord’s shoulders shake, “None of us are at fault. Just like none of us are at fault for Molly.”

Fjord hiccups out a quiet sob and doesn’t bother trying to reply. He slides his arms around Caleb, under his coat, twists his fingers into the back of Caleb’s shirt.

“It’s okay,” Caleb says quietly, mouth tucked against Fjord’s ear. His palm skates up and down the curve of Fjord’s spine in gentle sweeps, the other curving around the back of Fjord’s neck. “We’re okay.”

Footsteps approach and Caleb pauses his movements, but Fjord nods.

“Ja,” Caleb says to whoever it is, but that breaks open the floodgates and several sets of footsteps approach.

Nott shoves her way under one of Fjord’s arms, tucking herself against he and Caleb both, “Thank fuck,” she says, voice scratchy, “I thought I was gonna cry first.”

Fjord hiccups again, “I’m gonna kill you,” he says, though his voice is still scraped raw and his face is still mashed against Caleb’s throat.

She laughs, “You can try.”

“Technically,” Jester says.

“Technically,” Beau echoes and there’s a brief scuffle and Beau laughs.

Then someone presses against his back and Jester says again, against his shoulder, “Technically,, I cried first, so I think Fjord is in the clear.”

“Dude totally almost just drowned too,” Beau says, somewhere to his left, “Again.”

Caleb says an exasperated, “Beauregard,” and Fjord snorts.

He could lift his head, face them all, but he feels much safer pressed into Caleb’s neck.

“I think we all needed this,” Caduceus says to his right and someone must shoot him a look because he goes, “Oh no, not the drowning, we could all do without that for at least three months now, I think. But this--”

“A good cry?” Beau suggests.

“Close enough,” Caduceus says, still serene and calm.

“So are we gonna talk about Caleb’s new instinct to turn himself into an animal at every turn?” Beau quips and Caleb groans, the sound vibrating through Fjord, who hiccups out a laugh.

Someone - Caleb - flicks the point of his ear so he digs his claws in a little, relishing smugly in the soft bark of laughter that bursts out of Caleb. And that’s interesting enough for him to lift his head. Caleb meets his gaze with a mulish set to his jaw, but the corner of his eyes are wrinkled with amusement.

“Are you guys gonna kiss?” Jester asks suddenly and then makes a bunch of kissy noises over his shoulder.

“Eugh, gross, let me out,” Nott says and tries to push out of Fjord’s grip, but he tightens his hold on her and squishes her in further between he and Caleb while she shrieks and tries to claw at him.

Jester piles in closer, fitting her arms around as many of them as she can while Beau cackles with laughter.

\-----

They push forward.

Fjord is far less hesitant this time, tucking himself against Caleb’s back, his face against Caleb’s neck. He’s still careful with his tusks, aware of the blunt awkward point of them, still too small by half, and not wanting to subject Caleb to them.

His claws he’s less careful with, though he doesn’t dig them into Caleb’s sides despite temptation. It feels like a terrible idea when they’re riding at top speed on a moorbounder.

Caleb cups a hand over his forearm though and Fjord inhales maybe too sharply.

\-----

When they stop for the day, inky darkness starting to spread out across the sky, Fjord paces away from where Caleb is setting up the bubble, joining Beau. She’s staring out over the fields around them, nothing and nothing and nothing for miles.

Nothing but dry fields and the faintest outline of mountains to their backs.

“You okay?” Beau asks, without looking away from the horizon. He realizes her stance is the same way Caleb had been using this morning and wonders if they realize how much they’re rubbing off on each other. It’s probably safer that he doesn’t ask.

Instead, he shrugs, “Better, at least.”

She nods and elbows him, “Good, we need all our heads in the game,” she pivots suddenly on her heel. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Caleb--”

He opens his mouth to rebut and she holds up a hand--

“It’s not really my business and I don’t give a shit,” she barrels on, intent, “I’m saying it’s a good thing.” She scrubs her hand over her mouth and glances back at Caleb, still casting his spell. “You two are a couple of reckless idiots with negative self worth between you, but you’re good for each other.”

She claps him on the arm and walks away while he’s still formulating a response.

His eyes drift to Caleb, following that quiet pull in his chest.

That’s how Nott sneaks up on him, slinking up to his side and then whacking him across the back of his knees.

He doesn’t go down but it’s a near thing, “What the fuck, Nott?” He hisses and checks to make sure the others haven’t noticed. Not that he expects anything to go unnoticed by any of the other four, they all see too much. But none of them comment so he’ll take it.

“You do want to kiss him,” she accuses, pointing a finger at him.

It’d be comical if he didn’t know her better.

He frowns and looks at Caleb, “Maybe,” he says easily, honestly. A lot has happened lately and none of it has given him much of a chance to stop and consider. They haven’t taken a break since the apothecary and he still hasn’t had a chance to talk to Caleb about his past.

Soon though, he thinks, if they ever find civilization again.

Civilization that doesn’t want them dead, anyways.

“Hm.”

She doesn’t say anything else after that, then the bubble bursts into life.

\-----

The bubble does nothing to protect from the cold.

“Fuck, I can’t feel my toes,” Nott says and her teeth are chattering.

“It’s not that cold,” Jester interjects, but she seems to handle the cold the best out of all of them. “Come over here, Nott, I’ll help keep you warm!” She lifts an arm, opening the space between her and Beau, curled together on their bed rolls.

Caleb snaps his fingers where he’s been studying his spells, and Frumpkin appears in a quiet puff of magic.

Fjord watches with distant amusement as Nott joins Jester and Beau and then Frumpkin curls up, squishing himself between Beau and Nott’s bodies. They all bundle up under the blankets and their cloaks, looking like a deformed lump of a patchwork creature.

“Caduceus, come over here,” Jester says and pats the ground behind her.

“Good idea,” Caduceus agrees easily enough, dragging his own bed roll over to Jester’s otherside.

Something weird settles in his chest, warmth and fondness, but the bitter drag of memories in the back of his head, the other kids at the orphanage curling up to stave off the cold nights that came from winter and ocean breezes in a stone building.

Caleb touches his shoulder, his book tucked away once more, “Come on,” he says and unrolls his own mat next to Caduceus, settling down on it.

Fjord breathes out quietly, watching them all settle down, before he pulls out his bedroll and lays it out next to Caleb’s. He nearly jumps out of his skin when Caleb suddenly reaches out and takes hold of his bedroll and then yanks. “What.” he says quietly, knee in the dirt from where he’d been unlacing his boots, He isn’t going to take them off, doesn’t want to risk it out here in this field, but he needs a little slack.

“It is cold,” Caleb says lowly, plainly.

There’s no response to that that doesn’t make him seem like a dumbass so he just dips his head and shuffles closer. He does take off his breastplate, resting it in the dirt next to his bedroll. It takes him a few minutes to get settled into his bedroll, settling on his side facing towards Caleb, who’s laying on his back.

His breath is misting in the air with every exhale. And Fjord takes him in, the sharp line of his nose now broken by his own hand, the bow of his lips, the gentle slope of his jaw. He’d shaved this morning, sat quietly by himself with his straight razor.

None of them had offered any assistance.

Before he realizes he’s doing it, Fjord reaches out, touches his fingers gently to a small patch Caleb had missed near the hinge of his jaw, “I could help, next time,” he offers low.

Caleb turns to him then, tucking Fjord’s fingers between his face and bedroll, eyes bright even in the dim light, “You are good with a straight razor then?” He asks, seeming unbothered by the contact, even though Fjord feels a twinge of regret curl through him at touching without asking first.

“Mine doesn’t grow as fast as yours,” he says carefully, “but I think I do a good job of it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you shave,” Caleb replies, “I suppose that says something about your skills.”

Fjord snorts softly, focuses in intently though when Caleb’s fingers touch the inside of his wrist.

“I would appreciate your help, Fjord,” he says seriously.

“Would you two shut up?” Beau interjects and Fjord withdraws his hand from Caleb, snarling back a sound in her direction. It falls quiet again after that, though Caleb doesn’t turn away from him now, gaze soft and searching and so very blue.

Sleep pulls at him distantly, hazily, 

“Caduceus?”

“Yeah, Jester?”

“Can you tell us about that volcano we’re going to again? We’ll need as many details as we can to tell Essek, right?” She sounds quiet, young, “Plus I like when you tell stories.”

“It’s very soothing,” Nott adds.

Caduceus rumbles out a laugh and Fjord can see a smile at the corners of Caleb’s mouth, “Sure thing.”

His eyes drift closed again as Caduceus starts to talk and he doesn’t startle when fingers curl around his own, only squeezes in response as he’s dragged under the waves.

**Author's Note:**

> i've been finishing up some old wips that have been knocking around my docs for a while now (obviously). this one literally only needed like the last like... idk 400ish words i think.
> 
> i'm [@vowofenmity](https://twitter.com/vowofenmity) on twitter.


End file.
